


(but in this twilight) our choices seal our fate

by argenttmccall



Series: BlueLight [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Background Dean Winchester/Spencer Reid, Bad Parent John Winchester, Caring Derek Morgan, Comfort/Angst, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, POV Derek Morgan, Sam Winchester Angst, Sam Winchester Has Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28692726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argenttmccall/pseuds/argenttmccall
Summary: Derek has to admit that he doesn’t know Sam as well as he knows Dean. Whereas Derek has had plenty of one on one conversations with Dean, either in person or by phone, he hasn’t really had the chance to get to talk to Sam much.orMorgan and Sam have a heart-to-heart, and Morgan gets his first real glimpse at exactly how bad John Winchester managed to fuck up his kids.
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Sam Winchester, Spencer Reid/Dean Winchester
Series: BlueLight [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1255145
Comments: 18
Kudos: 150





	(but in this twilight) our choices seal our fate

**Author's Note:**

> a couple of things:  
> 1\. while the series is being written to be read as a whole, it's not exactly necessary to have read the previous story before this one. but it helps. a lot.  
> 2\. if you like, or are in any way, sympathetic to john winchester, i highly suggest you exit out of this fic b/c it's only gonna get worse for good ol' j dubs. fuck that guy.

“I really need to come out to DC more often,” Dean says with a sigh, leaning against the bar top as Derek accepts their drinks with a smile and wink from the cute bartender. They’re in a cop bar, but Dean doesn’t seem to care as he looks around with interest and occasionally flashes pretty smiles at the FBI trainees that pass them by and look him up and down with interest. 

Derek knows that the smiles are superficial, just for show. He aims to appear non-threatening to a room full of people that would arrest him five times over if they knew what his hobbies were. 

“Honestly, If I saw you here more often, I think I’d be worried about what kind of monster was running around in my city,” Derek mutters, and Dean smiles wickedly.

“You mean other than the politicians?” 

Derek laughs as they make their way through the mass of people to the corner booth in the back, where Sam and Reid are neck deep in a discussion about theology and the supernatural. Dean rolls his eyes fondly at the pair before sliding in next to Reid and pressing a quick kiss to his temple. Reid shoots him a warm, if distracted, smile before turning back to Sam, even as he reaches over to lace his fingers together with Dean’s.

Derek feels a twinge of...melancholy, almost, as he watches their easy affection with each other. To be young and to have already found something so special with each other that most people spend their whole lives looking for? He envies them, just the tiniest bit, for that. 

“Enough, you nerds,” Dean says with a grin, raising his glass. “Here’s to surviving the monsters we hunt.”

“Amen,” Derek says, clinking his glass with the others. 

Sometimes, the events of Blackwater Ridge seem like some terrible nightmare, pulled straight out of a Stephen King novel. Even now, several months later, when Derek will still occasionally wake up in a cold sweat with the echoes of the Wendigo’s growls ringing in his ears, he sometimes can just not _believe_ it. But then, there will be times like now, when he finds himself sitting with the Winchester brothers and is forcibly reminded that not only did Blackwater Ridge happen, not only did he help hunt down a supernatural creature, but that these two boys consider that to have been just a regular day. 

“...A haunted asylum,” Derek says, stunned, as Dean grins at him after having regaled the table with the story of their latest hunt. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“You really should know by now that we don’t kid about shit like that,” Dean says cheerfully. “It was great, you would’ve loved it.”

“I doubt that,” Derek deadpans as Sam leans over to slap Dean lightly on the side of the head.

“It was not great, and he would _not_ have loved it, you complete jerk. And my jaw still hurts from when you punched me,” Sam says with a pout.

“You what,” Reid says, glaring at Dean.

“Only ‘cause Sammy tried to kill me.”

“You _what,_ ” Reid turns his glare to Sam.

“Wasn’t _me_ , Spence, it was the ghost that was possessing me!” Sam protests, and Derek immediately turns and waves down the nearest bartender to order a round of shots. Lord knows he’ll need ‘em.

In the end, though, Derek ends up having a good time. It’s nice to see Reid so much more relaxed outside of their work environment, surrounded by people he trusts completely. When Derek realizes that he himself is now counted among that, he has to hide his smile behind his glass. 

Derek recognizes Dean as a kindred spirit, of sorts. Older brothers, both stupidly protective of the people that they love. And for all the shit that Dean’s seen and lived through in his childhood and young adulthood, he’s still astoundingly full of hope and goodwill. He hunts because he genuinely wants to save people, and keep families from being torn apart like his was. Derek can relate. 

And it helps that out of everything that he knows about Dean Winchester, the most concrete fact about him is that he would happily step in front of a bullet for one Spencer Reid. 

Sam Winchester though…

Derek has to admit that he doesn’t know Sam as well as he knows Dean. Whereas Derek has had plenty of one on one conversations with Dean, either in person or by phone, he hasn’t really had the chance to get to talk to Sam much. All he knows is from what he’s heard from Reid and Dean: Sam also grew up a Hunter, raised primarily by Dean in the emotional and physical absence of their father, but didn’t want to follow in John Winchester’s footsteps. Instead, he managed to get into Stanford, somehow keeping stellar grades while bouncing from school to school, hunt to hunt. 

That tells Derek that Sam is brilliant, and dedicated. Unfortunately though, from what he can tell, Sam’s decision to go to school had caused an incredible rift between Sam, Dean, and their father. The mysterious and elusive John Winchester. Whenever Derek has tried to talk to Dean about it, he shuts down the conversation fast. When Derek has asked Reid about it, all Reid will tell him is that it was Very Bad, and to avoid that topic with Dean at all costs. 

He knows that right before he’d met the boys at Blackwater Ridge, Sam had agreed to drop out of school and help Dean find their father who had gone missing on a hunt. There...is absolutely more to that story than Derek has been told so far, but he figures that either Dean, Reid, or Sam will tell him when they want to, and he won’t pry in the meantime. 

“Hey Morgan?” Sam says when they’re alone at the table for a moment. “Can I, uh, ask a favor?”

“Yeah?” Morgan quirks a brow up at him, curiosity piqued. 

“And I know this is last minute, and I’m sorry about it, but is there any chance I can crash on your couch or something tonight?” Sam asks in a rush, and Derek just looks at Sam, surprised. Sure, he’s friendly with the boys, but he knows that Sam considers Reid family, and when they stop by DC he usually stays with him.

“I don’t mind,” Derek says finally with a shrug. “But don’t you usually crash with Reid?”

Sam laughs faintly. “Yeah, but I just...want to give them some time to themselves, is all.”

Sam turns to look past him, and Derek follows his gaze, and it clicks. He can just barely see Dean and Reid, half-hidden by a wall and shadows. Pressed against each other, lips locked and hands gripping hips tightly like they’re drowning and the other is their salvation. 

Derek chuckles and shakes his head in slight disbelief. Prior to meeting Dean Winchester, Derek would have sworn on a Bible that Reid had not the slightest inclination or interest in men or women or anyone in a sexual capacity. Clearly, he was wrong.

“I have a guest room you can stay in, kid,” Derek says, and the visible relief on Sam’s face makes him laugh.   
  


* * *

  
The sound of footsteps on his hardwood floors at 3:00 in the morning has Derek’s eyes automatically snapping open, and he’s halfway to pulling his gun out of his bedside table when his mind finally wakes up and helpfully reminds him that he has a guest in his house tonight. 

Derek flops back down into his bed with a sigh, and is about to turn over and get back to sleep, when he faintly hears his balcony door slide open. He debates it for a few seconds, before deciding that his curiosity outweighs his sleepiness. Derek pulls on an FBI hoodie and a ratty pair of gym shorts before padding out to his living room. 

Through the glass, he can see Sam, in a Stanford t-shirt and pyjama flannel pants, gripping the balcony railing and taking gulping deep breaths. So, nightmare. Derek gives the kid a few minutes to pull himself together as he detours to snag a couple of water bottles from his fridge. When Derek steps out lightly onto the patio, Sam gives him a startled, apologetic look.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“S’alright,” Derek says with a small smile. “I don’t tend to sleep well regardless. The job, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, smiling back gratefully as Derek hands him a water bottle. Sam chugs almost all of his in one go, as Derek mentally catalogues the dark bruises under Sam’s eyes, the faint tremors in his hands, the sheer fatigue in his body language. He doesn’t like what he’s seeing. He also knows that outright asking the kid if he’s alright will shut him down fast. 

So instead, he leans against the balcony, his forearms balanced against the railing and swinging his water bottle from his fingertips. He takes a moment to just breathe in the cool summer air and take in the view of DC at night. Eventually, Sam takes a deep breath and mirrors Derek’s pose. Derek doesn’t look over at him, keeping his gaze on the Washington Monument in the distance. 

“You said you, uh, don’t sleep well?” Sam finally asks quietly, and Derek chances a glance over at him. He’s not looking at Derek, his gaze fixed firmly on the street below them. His shoulders are hunched in defensively, and it hits Derek suddenly that Sam Winchester is so _young_. 22 years old, he should be pulling all-nighters for finals and doing keg stands at frat parties, not piling on the world’s problems on his shoulders. For a moment, Derek is painfully reminded of meeting Reid a couple years back, fresh out of the Academy and dumped straight into the BAU and its horrors on day one. The powers that be have always only ever valued Reid’s genius intellect first and foremost, rather than his mental health, after all.

“No.” Derek debates for a moment telling about his own nightmares, sometimes guest-starring some of the BAU’s greatest hits such as Adrian Bale and Karl Arnold. But in the end he decides not to. For every UnSub in Derek’s nightmares, he bets that Sam has a monster of the week to match in his.

“How bad are they?” he asks instead, and Sam’s lips press together tightly. Derek wonders if he’s pushed too far, too fast, when Sam suddenly lets out an explosive breath.

“Pretty fuckin’ bad, man.” Sam looks over at him, and Derek can see the sheer pain and misery in Sam’s eyes that has him catching his breath. “Everytime I close my eyes, I just see her body, bathed in fire on our ceiling.”

Derek just stares at Sam, stunned and trying to figure out what exactly he wants to focus on first from that sentence. Finally, he just asks, “Her?”

The grief in Sam’s eyes deepens, and Derek finds himself almost in mourning as well. 

“Jess. She was...my girlfriend.” Sam suddenly barks out a sharp laugh and scrubs his hand roughly down his face. “She was the love of my life, actually. I was trying to save up to buy her a ring. And now she’s gone. Murdered, somehow, by the same creature that killed our mom.”

 _Holy shit._ Derek has heard bits and pieces of what had happened to Dean and Sam’s mother, and he knows that Dean especially still carries the pain of her death to this day. 

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” Derek says quietly, and Sam tilts his head in acknowledgement. 

“You know what’s funny?” Sam says, and Derek doesn’t think it’ll be funny at all. “I’ve never really understood my dad until now. And I don’t...I don’t know how to feel about that. Knowing what he felt as he watched my mom burn, helpless to save her...I think get it now. I get why he felt the need to devote the rest of his life to revenge. Why he was so desperate to raise us as Hunters, as soldiers for his crusade.”

Sam finally looks up and over at Derek, his eyes shiny with unshed tears, devastation written on every inch of his face. And Derek has to crush his grip on his water bottle to keep from physically reaching out to Sam, because he knows that if he does, Sam will shatter like glass. 

“He must have loved her more than he loves us.”

Derek immediately decides, _fuck it_. He reaches out and pulls Sam into a vice-like hug because the kid _needs it_. Even so, Sam doesn’t let himself completely break down. He hiccups dry sobs for a moment, as Derek has a vivid flashback to a moment in time when his own father had pulled him into a bone-crushing hug as Derek had cried into his shoulder. And Derek suddenly, intuitively knows with a certain clarity, that John Winchester never comforted either of his sons like that after the death of his wife. 

“Sam, I need you to listen to me,” Derek says lowly, stepping back a bit to look Sam in the eyes. He keeps his hands gripped firmly on Sam’s shoulders as the kid stares at him, glassy-eyed.

“I have never met your father, and I can’t presume to know what he thinks, or what he feels. That said, you and Dean _deserved better_. Do you understand me? You deserved to have a father who loved you two unconditionally, and who was willing to put your safety and security above all else, including his need for revenge. You deserved to grow up like normal kids, in a normal house, with a normal fucking _life._ ”

Derek knows from the grief and uncertainty in Sam’s eyes that no one else has actually taken the time to lay all this out for Sam; Derek doesn’t think that there would even be very many people that would have known that he needs this. He can feel the molten hot rage at John Winchester building inside him, but right now he can’t let it out. Because Sam doesn’t need that right now.

“You deserved to have a dad who actually took care of you, instead of pushing you off to your brother, _who was also a fucking child_. You deserved to have a dad who would encourage you in whatever you wanted to do, including going to college.”

Sam violently flinches at that, and Derek just squeezes his shoulders tighter, needing to get his point across. 

“You and Dean deserved all of that, and I am so sorry that you never got it. And I know that your grief and rage over Jess’ death is overwhelming, and the burning need for revenge for her death and for your mother’s death is there, but guess what? _You are not your father._

You do not have to sacrifice your life and your sanity for revenge. Now, you’re a grown-ass man and I can’t tell you what to do. But you should think about your reasons for doing what you’re doing, and what your future plans will be. When you hunt, do you do it because you want to destroy the monster, or because you want to save lives? Why did you choose to pursue law as your career? 

Don’t get yourself killed over this crusade, Sam. You have your whole life ahead of you, and I know you want to spend it doing good, I can see it in you. You just have to give yourself the chance to do so.”

And it may be wishful thinking on Derek’s part, but he thinks that maybe, _maybe_ , he can see a glimmer of hope underneath his grief. 

“I-it’s not just me, though,” Sam finally says quietly. “Dean…”

Derek sighs. “I know. He needs to hear this too, assuming Reid hasn’t already tried to get through his thick, stubborn skull.”

Sam laughs wetly, stepping away from Derek to dry his eyes with his shirt. His smile fades quickly, though, as he looks at Derek. “It’s different for Dean. I mean, he actually remembers Mom. And Dad’s pounded it into his head that his only purpose is to kill the thing that killed Mom. That’s it. And I--I tried! I tried talking to Dean before I left, to convince him that he isn’t just...just a weapon! I just don’t know if I got through to him.”

Sam scrubs a hand tiredly down his face, and Derek suddenly feels a wave of exhaustion that threatens to knock him off his feet. He imagines that this is how the boys feel constantly, and his heart aches for them. 

“Dean is different,” Derek agrees quietly. “But it’s not just him and his dad anymore. He has you, and he has me, and he has Reid who I know for a fact would move heaven and earth to make Dean happy.”

Sam snorts but gives Derek a small smile. “Yeah, he has us.”

“And you,” Derek says, catching and holding Sam’s gaze to make sure he understands. “Have Dean, you have Reid, and you also have me. We won’t let you drown, kid, I promise.”

Derek can see the budding relief in Sam’s eyes, and Derek can’t help but smile and clap Sam on the shoulder. He knows that this hasn’t really changed their situation, and that Sam and Dean still intend to tear this country apart looking for their dad. But if he can help chip away at their defenses, and help them realize that their lives mean more than just the pursuit of revenge, then Derek will take that small victory and run with it. 

“Thank you, Morgan,” Sam says softly, ducking his head. Morgan huffs a small laugh.

“It’s Derek to you, kid. You should go and try to get some rest, or we’ll have to deal with your pissy brother tomorrow. Or, later today, god help me.”

Sam snorts, patting Derek on the shoulder as he passes by him and steps back into the condo. “Please, you’ve seen how obsessed Dean and Spence are with each other, especially whenever they’re in the same zip code. We’ll be fine.”

Sam starts to head back to the guest room, but then stops. Derek steps back inside and pulls the balcony door closed before turning to face Sam’s back.

“I’m glad Spence has you as a friend,” Sam says suddenly, and Derek just blinks in surprise. “You’re a good person, Derek. Good night.”

And as Sam pads into his room and quietly shuts the door, Derek can’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for all of the love and support, it means the world! drop a comment, let me know what you think, or hit me up on my tumblr!  
>    
> [argenttmccall.tumblr.com](https://argenttmccall.tumblr.com)


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